Rewind:An alternate PD fanfic
by GenaB
Summary: An alternate story line for PD2. But with a lot more Clarrise and Joe! Got to love this unlikely pair. Focuses on the generation gap, and also how little we think other people see. But mostly about figuring out you feelings, and acting on them.
1. Turning up the Heat

This is my first attempt posting here, and as I royally screwed up last time. Please forgive and forget, and do not hold anything against me lol. 

**Chapter 1: Turning up the heat**

A certain young princess wandered down the hall of the Genovian Embassy in London, where she was staying with her body guard Lars before heading to Genovia. The Embassy was nothing like the one in San Francisco. It was a cold and dreary building, more like a warehouse than a home for a Princess.

Mia had been here for almost a week. She wasn't entirely sure why she was here. As far as she knew she was supposed to have been in Genovia. But with the American war on Terrorism, and Genovia's neutral position, it was hard for the American princess of Genovia to travel between the two.

Mia turned the corner into her room and fell on to the twin bed that stood against the wall near the only window. She could hear Lars talking on his cell phone in the adjoining room. His bed creaked and he appeared in the door way, holding out the phone towards her.

"It's Joe, wants to know if you have your Genovian passport with you."

"Ummm no, I don't even have a Genovian passport." Lars retreated into his room mumbling into his phone. As both Lars and Joe spoke an assortment of languages, Mia could never tell what they were saying, not even what language they were speaking. They switched constantly from French, to English, to Japanese or something else, in order to confuse anyone that shouldn't be listening. Lars reappeared in the doorway, shaking his head.

"Your grandmother is going to call you in 10 minutes on the Embassy phone, so you'd better get down to the office." Mia rolled of the bed and began to stroll down the hallway. She stopped where another hallway veered off and looked back at Lars for direction. He was pointing right and laughing, trust Mia to not know her way around after a whole week. He took off after her, not wanting to be responsible for her getting lost.

In Genovia Clarisse Renaldi was anxiously watching the clock, she wanted to call in precisely ten minutes. This whole neutral position thing was really taking a toll on her. Mr. Bush was very persuasive. He wanted to be able to use the Genovian ports, and as of yet Genovian parliament had refused. But the whole situation was making it very difficult to have an American Princess, even more so an American Princess who was approaching her coronation.

Seven more minutes, Clarisse tapped her fingers impatiently against her oak desk. She hadn't even gotten dressed yet. All morning had been consumed with Mia. And here it was approaching noon!

Clarrise yawned, she was getting very warm in her silk robe and cotton pajamas. She glanced over her shoulder and seeing no one around took of the robe. That was better. She dropped the robe onto the floor of her office and turned around to stare at the clock some more. She drummed her fingers on her desk, rocking slightly on her revolving chair. When had she become this impatient?

She sighed, the glaring July sun coming through her window was melting her. Clarisse giggled to herself. She could always take off her pajama top, she did have a camisole underneath it. The very idea made her shiver. In the back of her mind was a news paper headline, about a certain Genovian Royal, at a certain beach party. But she shook the thought back. She was in her office, in her private quarters. No one ever entered them without knocking. She was perfectly safe.

The Queen slowly unbuttoned her top, continually checking behind her, even though she knew perfectly well no one was there. She glanced at the clock, three minutes. She would put her shirt back on before she called Mia. It would be a little odd to talk to her granddaughter wearing nothing but a skin colored under shirt.

She rested her head against the head rest, trying to think of something reassuring to tell Mia. Suddenly she heard the door behind her open.

"Don't let me intrude upon your... sunbathing, your Majesty," said a certain male voice.


	2. Strain

**Chapter 2: Strain**

Clarrise froze. She knew that voice, Joe. Her mind started racing. Her robe was on the floor next to her, she would have to turn to face him to grab it. And her top was on the back of her chair. It would be easier to grab that, but it would take a lot longer to put on. And in her mind time was not something she had.

"If you would be so kind as to turn around," she said in her queenliest voice, trying to keep herself from shaking. She waited a good five second, before looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't looking. He wasn't. She snatched her robe from the ground and through it on, tying the tie tightly about her waist.

"You can ummm... turn around," she stuttered. She wasn't exactly sure what this would do to their relationship. Ever since the whole Wango incident in San Francisco, anything remotely linked to romance and Joe, made her blush. It wasn't that she didn't love him, she just didn't know how to handle her feelings. She'd never learned how to handle her feeling, arranged marriages didn't leave room for romance, love and flirting. That was all she'd ever had, an arranged marriage. And even with Joe, she wasn't sure what kind of a love it was.

When she stood and turned about to face him, he was trying to suppress a smile, and failing horribly. He was shaking with laughter actually. It dawned on her that from his vantage point it must have looked as if she wasn't wearing a shirt at all. Like some topless woman on a french beach. She looked back down at the floor.

"Your Majesty," he said after a moment, he was no longer laughing. "I believe Mia is excepting a call from you." And with that her turned about and left. She could hear his dee laugh all the way down the hallway.

She sat down facing the desk. She still hadn't come up with anything encouraging to tell Mia. The only think she could think about as she dialed the number for the embassy was Joe.

Mia picked up on the first ring. She was nervous about her approaching coronation. But she wanted to be in Genovia with her Grandmother.

"Hello?"

"Good Morning Mia." Mia relaxed her Grandmother would know exactly what to do.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"It's errmmm... going. What have you been up to?" Mia told her grandmother everything about her boring stay at the embassy, but her grandmother seemed preoccupied. That was understandable the world was watching to see what would happen between the allied countries and those that remained neutral. Mia's coronation would be a high point. And Clarrise had to deal with it all.

The discussed Mia's departure and also how she was suppose to deal with the press. They would be practically shoving their microphones down her throats. Especially the paparazzi. Anything to make the young princess say something that she would regret. Something that would embarrass her country.

All too soon the phone call ended. Clarrise had other things to attend to. She said something about a misunderstanding. Mia put the phone back on the receiver. She turned to where Lars had been standing. but he'd left. She would have to find her own way back.

Coming out through the office door Mia couldn't remember weather she had come from the left or right. She didn't recognize anything. But there was a door to the left, and she vaguely remembered going through a door. So she headed that way. Upon opening the door, she found herself on the street, in a mass of reporters.

"Princess, princess!"

"Over here Mia."

"How's your Grandma?"

"Princess!"

"What is your countries decision." A man in a suit jacket and spandex shorts shoved a mike towards her.

"Look this way." Camera's were flashing everywhere, the reporters were screaming and shoving microphones in her face. Mia tried to remember anything her Grandma had told her, but her mind went blank. People were grabbing onto her, and there was someone behind her, blocking the door. She shielded her eyes, but it was getting even louder. How had they even known she was here?

"Mia, how do you feel about America's War on Terrorism?"

"Are you Genovian or American?"

"Does your Grandma know what she's doing?"

"Princess, where do you stand, with or against your home country?" It was all too much. Mia didn't know what to say or what to do. Countless hours of Princess Lessons hadn't prepared her for this. Grandma had talked about what to say, if there was one person and they were politely sitting across the table from you. Not if there were a couple of dozen, that were screaming and grabbing at you. She'd said something about this on the phone. But that was all gone from Mia's mind. She was mad. Someone reached over and grabbed her arm, toppling her over.

"F off!" she said, kicking someone in the shin. She turned around shoving people out of the way to make it to the door. Mia managed to wrench the door open, and dive inside, slamming it behind her. She could hear the reporters battering and banging at the other side. They were still screaming her name.

But none of it registered, all Mia could think of were those fateful words. The princess collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. What had she done?


	3. Control

**Chapter 3: Control**

It took about half an hour for the news to reach Genovia. The phones were ringing off the hook. One reporter wanted to know if Clarrise would confirm that statement. She rolled her eyes and said she had no comment. How can you confirm or deny anything, when the heir to your throne blatantly swears at a reporter?

Charlotte was working across the room, trying to find out exactly what happened. How had the reporters known she was there? How had Mia gotten outside without a body guard? So far all she had come up with was dead ends. None of the stories aligned. She stared at one particularly ominous head ing:

**Genovian Princess attacks Reporter**

Where did they get attack out of swearing? The things reporters did these days...

Clarrise sighed what had started out a stressful day, was ending even more stressfully. She hadn't seen Joe at all. She felt she owed him some sort of an explanation. She didn't want this stupid little incident to end their already tense friendship.

But she couldn't think about that know. Mia needed help out of her little predicament. Who knew what she was hearing at the embassy. Knowing Mia she would be an absolute mess right now, she would go and hide in her room, refusing to speak to anyone.

It had taken Mia a long time to get use to any sort of press. She had been a bit awkward as a young teen. That phase had passed, but who knew what this would do to her. She was a quiet, private girl, it took one a long time to get to know her. It had taken Clarrise a good portion of the last 3 years to bond with Mia, and she hoped nothing would change that.

Not that Clarrise was exactly the extroverted type, who was easy to get to know. She had never had the need to really make bosom friends. Ever since she had been a little girl her acquaintances, friendships and even her marriage had been set up for her. All for diplomatic and political reasons. Sure she could be charismatic and charming, but she never particularly out going. She had learned to be more approachable, but frankly she wasn't really the kind of woman you hugged. She was more of a peck on the cheek kind of grandmother. Between the two of them, getting to know each other had been a long and often painful process.

Clarrise had seen Mia once, as a baby, but after that her contact had been limited to the few pictures that Phillipe, her son and Mia's father, showed her. After he had died she had lost all contact with the Thermopolis', until that fateful meeting at the Genovian consultant in San Francisco. And Mia had run out on her there. Not a particularly heart warming greeting. But Clarrise didn't blame her. She could remember the day her father had told her she was destined to be the queen of her country.

It had been a cool September morning, about a month before Clarrise's sixteenth birthday. She could remember wondering why her father wasn't at work. He was always at work.

That particular fall morning, he had called her down to his office. He had looked excited, but something in his stance worried her. His shoulders weren't hunched over a book, as they usually were. And he wasn't wearing his glasses. Clarrise almost didn't recognize him without his glasses.

He had bid her to sit down on the sofa. And then pacing back and forth, almost skipping, he had told her the news. Her father and the king had arranged a marriage for the eldest Prince and her. She had stared at him in disbelief. She had met the Prince only once. At a state function. Their fathers had shook hands, and the two of them were introduced.

He father held a high position of parliament, and had been knighted many years ago. Now she was to be Queen?

Until this point she really hadn't given Prince Rupert a second though. And now she was engaged to him? He seemed nice enough but she didn't even know him. Clarrise had always considered herself a hopeless romantic, and now she was to mary a man that she knew nothing about.

Clarrise was startled from her day dream by the phone. She answered it, another nosy reporter. Didn't they have any better stories? There was a war going on for heavens sake. She answered there questions in the same constant polite, cold tone and hung up. When would this madness end? Why couldn't Mia have said anything but F.

Clarisse chuckled to herself. When this was all over and done with, it might actually be comical. In a few hours, one word had become practically a national crisis. But it wasn't all over and done with.

In a few hours Clarrise had to appear before parliament to explain her heirs actions. And when Mia finally got here, she would have to do the same. It wasn't going to be easy. After all the members of parliament already had some doubts about whether an eighteen year old girl, who had never lived in the country for more than 3 or 4 months at a time, was really fit to rule. And now this. They would use this against her, claiming it showed the girls immaturity. And then there would be the usual talks of whether Genovia should really remain a constitutional monarchy.

Clarrise groaned, the talks always bored her, not to mention confusing her. In her mind there really was no reason for the switch. It wasn't as if she actually held very much power, only influence. And the people loved their queen, she knew that. Why would someone want to take that away from her?

Charlotte hung up the phone after a grueling conversation with a paper that kept insisting it was their reporter Mia had allegedly attacked. And of course they wanted some sort of compensation. Full reporting rights on the coronation at first, and then money. Charlotte had gotten them to settle for a discussion, once all the facts had been sorted out.

She glanced over at the queen to see how she was handling all of this. Well it appeared. She was smiling to herself over something.

Joe walked in through the door besides the Queen's desk, and motioned for Charlotte to meet him outside. She looked over at the Queen again, but Clarrise was otherwise occupied. Charlotte slipped away from her desk and out the door.

Joe was waiting for her, pacing up and down the hallway.

"Charlotte, I think it is of utmost importance that we get Mia out of this, shall we say, difficult situation immediately." Charlotte nodded, she had figured that was what Joe would say. "But I don't think we should tell Her Majesty."

"But..." Charlotte began to protest, but Joe hushed her.

"Her nerves have been frazzled enough, we don't need her worrying about Mia's arrival." Joe was watching the back of the Queen's head with a certain tenderness. Charlotte had seen that look before, it hadn't taken her long after walking in on the dancing in San Francisco. to figure the whole little affair out.

"What ever you want Joe, you're the head of security..."

"Then I will need your help, to keep her," he gestured towards Clarrise, "in the dark."


	4. Worry

**Chapter 4: Worry**

Charlotte sat back down at her desk. She had escorted Joe to the door, making sure that no one saw anything suspicious. Joe had jumped into a cab, and headed off to the airport. Now all she needed to deal with was the Queen.

Clarrise was utterly unaware of Charlotte's disappearance and reentry. She was pretending to be writing her speech for the upcoming, but she couldn't concentrate. Instead she was staring at a picture of Mia and Joe on her desk. Actually it wasn't really a picture of Joseph, more a picture of Mia, with Joe lurking in the background.

Clarrise couldn't help smiling. She loved this picture of Joseph. He hadn't been looking at the camera, he was just staring out into the distance, with the usual stern face and sunglasses.

The phone rang, again, jolting Clarrise from her day dream. She looked back down at the empty page. She had better get started, she had an awful lot of convincing to do.

The Queen stood in front of the parliament, gazing out into the familiarly stern faces. Long ago she had decided that these men never smiled, not even when they laughed.

She shifted her gaze. She hadn't seen Joe since this morning. Strange, since after all he was her bodyguard. But there were a couple of security guards standing near by, there was no reason to feel alarmed. Joe was probably off saving the world, as he always did. Hopefully he would come up with some way to get Mia here, safe and sound.

Clarrise flicked through her notes again. She knew them by heart, but was always a bit nervous when addressing parliament. Their stares seemed to go right through you. Piercing your soul. There was one man in particular who scared her Monsieur Dejonlé. He never blinked, his steeling gray eyes boring into you, like a cold harsh spotlight. Clarrise sighed, she knew she was just working herself up with these thoughts. She would be fine. She always was.

Charlotte was keeping a sharp eye on the Queen. She didn't want the Queen to worry herself about Joe. She was already worried enough about Mia. Charlotte could tell she was nervous about addressing parliament, she was twisting a ring on her finger. It was her wedding ring. Charlotte wasn't exactly sure why she still wore it.

Charlotte had been close to the Queen for more than half a decade. Before that she had worked in the palace for another five years. She had never been there when the King was alive, but she knew the Queen hadn't married the heir to the Genovian throne for love. And Charlotte was fairly sure that she had never grown to romantically love Rupert either.

Charlotte was exceptionally perceptive, she figured that is why she excelled as her job, it had taken her about three weeks at the palace to figure out that the Queen harbored feeling for her head of security. She had sorted through all the gossip that suggested anything from Joe having four ex-wives and 18 children, to the Queen having given birth to Joe's bastard children. She had come to the conclusion that the Queen and Joe were secretly in love with each other. And there were no secret love children involved.

The years had just made this more obvious to her. The little glances of concern on Joe's part, and the Queens relieved anxiety when her body guard was near, had just cemented this theory. The theory that ran through the place like wildfire with the maids. But Charlotte would never tell anyone. She was loyal till the end.

After all the formalities of Parliament, the Queen stood and began her address. Charlotte settled down. The Queen would prevail, she could convince any one of anything. The power of parliament really did rest in her hands. As did the fate of the young Genovian Princess.

Clarrise lay on her side, staring out the dark window. Her speech had gone well, if you could call it that. The men had been as responsive as ever, which meant pretty much not at all. But Clarrise was still nervous.

What was she to say to Mia? She was amused by the whole incident. She knew the pressure of the media. But what kind of a Grandmother can condone such language and behavior. She knew what she should say. She should tell Mia how disappointed she was. But how could she do that. Mia was already upset enough. They're brief conversation this evening, after the address, had shown Clarrise exactly how shaken up her granddaughter was. And Clarrise didn't want to worsen the matter.

All the sudden this mornings episode burst into her mind. In the rush, Mia's tears, and the address, Clarrise had practically forgotten about Joe's entrance. She felt sick to her stomach. How could she have forgotten. Her best friend in the world, her only friend in the world, had walked in on her, and practically seen her naked. Well practically naked from the waist up.

Clarrise could feel herself blushing, even though there was no one else in the room. What a humiliating situation. Joseph was sleeping across the hall in his quarters, thinking she got some sort of strange pleasure working in the buff.

Suddenly impulse took over. She needed to see him. Now. To explain herself. Clarrise climbed out of bed, and reached for her dressing gown. It wasn't there. She groped around in the dark for a minute before realizing that she had left it in the office. No sense in trekking over there. This little visit would only take a minute.

She crept out the door, and around the corner to his door. No one was around, all the lights in the hall had been dimmed. She knocked, no one answered. Slowly cautiously she opened the door. Clarrise had never been in this room. It was small, but very neat. No one in here, but there was a door. She assumed it went to his bedroom. She opened it and stepped inside. No one.

Utter despair washed over Clarrise. She knew it was only because it was late, the day had been stressful and she was tired. But she felt like she couldn't go on. The tears started streaming down her face. She tried to stop the but to no avail. She sat down on the edge of his bed. She wouldn't wait. She just needed to calm down. She leaned back, her head resting on his pillow. Gazing up at the ceiling, she realized this must be what Joseph looked at, every night before he fell asleep. It was a calming thought.

Her eyelids began to close. She would get up in a second. In a second she would head back to her room. As the clock struck midnight, the Queen of Genovia slept, breathing softly on her head of security's bed.


	5. Sleep On

**Chapter 5: Sleep On**

Joe walked slowly down the corridor. He was exhausted. But Mia was here, safe and sound.

It had been easier to get her here than anyone had guessed. It all had to do with visa's and the like. In the end it was mostly a matter of not hurting anyone's feelings, or stepping on anyone's toes. He had been firm with the customs agents. His diplomatic immunity hadn't hurt either. There would probably be a bit of a scuffle to get her into the states again. But then she would be Queen. Hopefully the war would also be over.

He rounded the corner, entering the Queen's private wing. His room was here too. As her personally body guard, he needed to be near her at all times. Joe yawned. He needed to get some sleep. But duty called. He would stop at his room, before heading over to check on the queen. If Charlotte had succeeded the Queen wouldn't even know he had left. Joe suddenly realized he needed a way to explain how her Granddaughter had managed to get here. Why hadn't he thought this all the way through?

He rubbed his temple with his hand, all that could wait. He would be of no use to the Queen if he was exhausted. He'd take a little nap before he reported to her, with his story.

Joe opened the door to his quarters, dropping his bag. It was good to be home. The door to his room was just cracked open. He pushed it the rest of the way, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. He stopped dead in his tracks, not believing his eyes. Someone was on his bed. And that someone looked remarkably like the Queen.

She was curled up in the middle, her head resting on his pillow. She was snoring softly. He had always wondered if she snored, and now he knew. But somehow it made her all the more appealing. He tried not to let his mind go to the gutter, but it wasn't listening to him. He didn't know how many times he imagined falling asleep with this woman in his arms. And here she was asleep on his bed.

But he knew he couldn't disturb her. Why was she there?He He suddenly remembered yesterday mornings little episode. Her smooth back. The way her head had been slightly tilted. He needed to get his mind out of the gutter. But he couldn't. Joe wanted nothing more than to lie down next to her, and feel her in his arms. Slowly he backed out the door. He was a bodyguard, a lowly servant. He couldn't love her. It wasn't allowed

Joe picked up his bag and left. Closing the door behind him. He would wait in the kitchen.

Clarrise awoke to the sound of the door closing. Where was she? She didn't recognize her surroundings. But it all came rushing back. She was in Joseph's room. She had just laid down for a minute. It couldn't be much past 1l, maybe midnight.

She crept out of the room, excepting a dark hallway. But it was bright as day. She must have fallen asleep for a couple of hours. Where had Joe slept? It must have been him closing the door that had awoken her. Had he seen her? She started to dart across the hall, but heard someone coming. She slunk back into his room. The person had passed. How would she get back?

Her room was around the corner, and across the hall. But how was she supposed to get there, without anyone seeing her. That would be an interesting dilemma to explain. Why she was walking around in her pajama's at god-only-knows-what-hour. Had Charlotte come looking for her? Was the maid, in her room?

She decided she would just need to make a mad dash for it? Clarrise flung open the door, slammed it behind her, and began to run. The hallway had never seemed so long. It couldn't be more than a hundred feet. It was as if she was running in slow motion. As if she was running through peanut butter. She was just about around the corner when BAM she hit something. Something that was groaning and holding his head.

The Queen straighten up, embarrassed beyond belief. She had been caught. And not just caught, but caught by the person she least wanted to be caught by. If she wasn't a Queen, and if she hadn't been raised to hide all emotion, then she would have probably burst into tears.

"G-Goodmorning Joseph." And with that she walked around the corner, into her room, and fell down on her bed. She began to cry, but was soon laughing, with tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, Joseph!"


	6. DayDreaming

Hope you are all enjoying my fanfic. Please review it so that I can know what to improve. Thanks! 

**Chapter 6: Daydreaming**

Mia waited impatiently outside her Grandmother's office. Joe had told her to wait there, while he briefly described his little trip to London. It was turning out that he wasn't so brief.

Mia was tired and ornery. She wanted to get this little discussion with her Grandmother over as quickly as possible. She knew her Grandmother would never actually yell at her, but she would give the whole 'very disappointed' speech. This wasn't the first time Mia had gotten this particular lecture. Her Grandmother had been 'very' disappointed with her more than once over the last couple of years, since they had first met. Mia hated that speech, it made her feel like she had failed.

Finally Joe emerged, a grim look on his face. He nodded curtly for Mia to enter. She cautiously opened the door. She could see her Grandmother sitting at her desk. She looked upset.

"Hello." Her Grandmother turned around, slowly as if afraid of what she would see. As always she was perfectly groomed.

"Hello, Amelia. I suppose we do need to talk, but this really isn't the best of times. We can get together around tea, Ok? I've got a lot of ermmm... press control to do. You can unpack before that." Clarrise said all of this as if she were afraid someone would cut her off. She smiled at Mia, and turned back around. "I'll meet you in your sitting room for tea in two hours."

Mia left, feeling even worse. Had this whole situation really gotten that bad? She wandered down the hallway, back towards her suite. The young princess failed to notice the head of security slip back into her Grandmother's office.

"You Majesty?" Joseph spoke so suddenly it startled Clarrise. "We need to talk."

"Joseph, must I ermm... remind you to always knock, in order to avoid unpleasant situations like yesterday."

"Clarrise, you know full well that isn't what this is about. You're mad at me. Because I went to London without telling you."

"I'm not mad, just startled, because you would breach my trust like that."

"Trust is a two way street, your majesty."

"What are you insinuating?"

"That perhaps your Majesty, never really trusted me in the first place."

"Joseph, I trust you..." She sounded startled at the thought, maybe he had over stepped his boundaries. He continued on more cautiously.

"Your majesty, I don't believe you have really trusted me since the little incident after our trip to San Francisco."

"I trust you..."

"Clarrise, if you trust me, why won't you look at me?"

"I could ask you the same question!" she was getting angry "Why did you leave, anything could have happened while you were away."

"There were plenty of people around to protect you. You are safe when someone knows where you are, but I wouldn't suggest roaming the halls at night, or sleeping in other peoples beds." He left. He knew full well he had crossed the boundaries, but he was tired of only being her guard. He wanted something more. They were friends, but only on a safe level. A level where she let no one really get to know her. A level where she could laugh but no cry. Joseph had wanted to be her true friend and confidant.

He had seen the look in her eyes some nights, when her and Rupert had fought. He had wanted to rush after her, comfort her. But she never let him. After Rupert died, nothing had really changed. He was expected to be near her more often, but she seemed to guard her emotions even more closely.

Then in San Francisco, Mia had brought them together. The Queen had let down her guard, and allowed him to see Clarrise. He had felt his world turn upside down. And it wasn't until the night of the 'Wango' that Joe had figured it all out. He was head over heels in love with Clarrise, not the Queen, just Clarrise.

But then someone had caught them together. The story had been a national scandal. A Queen and her bodyguard were simply not an acceptable pair. Clarrise, always the monarch, had put her country first. And all that loving had been for nothing. They were back to the way they had always been, friends, but not true friends.

He shook his head. He would have to apologize for the way he had acted. But first he needed to cool down.

Clarrise hadn't moved since Joseph had left. She was shocked. Her head of security had overstepped his boundaries. And all she wanted to do was hold him. Not only that but her knew about her midnight rendez-vous. How did he know? She buried her head on the desk and started to cry. When had she become this emotional basket case? She never cried, and here she was sobbing for the third time in 24 hours.

She would expect Mia to act this way, but it was her acting like the hormonal teenager. She needed to get going it was nearly tea time. She needed to talk to Mia. And there was nothing at all that she wanted to do less. What was she to say?

Mia waited impatiently. Her Grandmother was late, it must be really bad, she was never late. She drummed her fingers on the table. Mia was tired, hungry and cranky. She knew she needed to keep her temper with her Grandma, but it was going to be difficult. She couldn't understand how Grandmother always kept her temper. She never cried, never showed any true emotion. It seemed these days all Mia could do was act like a hormonal teenager. And true, she was a hormonal teenager, but she was also the heir to the crown, and Queen's don't act like hormonal teenagers. Or at least her Grandmother never did.

And then suddenly her Grandmother was there, gliding in as she always did. But something was different she looked flustered and anxious. Not at all like her usual self. But Mia didn't notice, she was too busy reciting the apology that she had prepared in her head. And the moment her Grandmother sat down, she barreled right into it.

"Grandma, I'm so sorry, umm I don't know what came over me. And I promise I will never act like that again. Ever. I'll remember what you taught me in Princess lessons. And I'll never go anywhere without an bodyguard. Ever ever again.

Not to say it was Lars fault. I mean any self acutilized competent teenager could have found there way back. But I am none of those... and are you listening?" Her Grandmother was staring off into the distance, past Mia's shoulder. Mia spun around to see what was there. Joe. Figures the two of them had some secret language. They always knew what the other was thinking. Plus anyone with eyes could tell that they were totally in love.

"Amelia, I don't blame you at all." said her Grandmother, still not really looking at her, "You can go know."

"What that's it?"

"Yes, unless you have something else to say." Her Grandmother was trying to pay attention to her, and failing completely. Her eyes kept going back to where Joe was standing. Or had been standing. He was gone now.

"Ummm no, bye, Oh wait. Can Lily and Micheal come stay here in a few weeks? They're on summer vacation too."

"Whatever you want Amelia." Her Grandmother was totally preoccupied, there was no point in staying around any longer. So Mia left. Maybe there would something on Genovian TV. Not that any of it was in English. She needed to get someone to install cable, or she was going to miss the end of American Idol.

Clarrise rose from the table several minutes after Mia had left. She realized that they hadn't actually had tea. She decided to wander down to the kitchen. Alonzo the chef always had something cooking. And his wife Maria was always happy to see her.

She wandered towards the kitchen, consumed in her thoughts. But her mind didn't make any sense. Her thoughts were scattered. She tried to concentrate on the media situation on hand, but it really didn't seem to matter anymore. After all, Mia was here. She decided to ask Charlotte tomorrow whether she thought just ignoring it from here on out would make it disappear faster. Probably not, things like this haunted you for years. Sometimes even life.

She remembered once her eldest son Pierre had been the center of such unwanted attention. Someone had gotten a picture of him talking to his pretty female cousin. By then he had released his decision to abdicate the thrown and join the church. The press had come out with some outrageous story about his final affair, before taking his oaths. How this was his true love, but he couldn't have her because she was married, and that was why he had abdicated. Even after they had proved it was his cousin the news had continued. Suddenly all the tales of incest in the Genovian Royal Families heritage had come out. It was really quite ridiculous.

Clarrise sighed. She tried not to think about things like that. Times when her family had been together. That had been about a year before Rupert had died. She remembered how devastated Rupert was when Pierre had announced his decision. But it had all turned out fine, because of Phillipe's willingness to take the throne. She was glad Rupert hadn't been around when Phillipe died. He would have been absolutely devastated. He had loved his sons so much. Rupert had been a very good father. Just not a very good husband...


	7. Stealing Kisses

I only have one chapter after this, and then I need to start writing, a lot! Please Review. 

**Chapter 7: Stealing Kisses**

It had been almost a week since Amelia had arrived at the palace. Things were slowly getting back to normal. Amazingly enough, the little swearing controversy was almost over. Thanks to a little controversial movie by a certain hotel heiress, the media had pretty much forgotten about Mia.

Clarrise had managed to settle into routine. If there was anything that made her feel safe, it was routine. Knowing what was going on and when, were her greatest comforts. She could remember at time when it hadn't been like that.

When she had first been married, she had hated the protocol, and the order. She had wanted to be spontaneous. Wasn't that what married couples were supposed to do. To lie in bed until noon just holding hands, to stay up all night talking. To go on walks, and picnics. Obviously royal couples didn't. Rupert was always up at exactly six, and in bed by ten or eleven. Any walks and picnics had to be scheduled in days before. And a huge entourage had to come with them. Often a camera crew was present. It was all about publicity.

When Rupert had died, she had realized this was her chance to be spontaneous. She would soon be only the Queen-Mother. But lying in bed until noon by yourself is not particularly fun. And you can't stay up talking if there was no one to talk to. Sometimes she had gone on walks with her sons. But Pierre was so serious, always wanting to discuss religion and philosophy. Phillipe on the other hand became to busy.

She had put all those things aside the news that Phillipe's college sweetheart was pregnant. That was about eighteen years ago. At first she had insisted that is couldn't be his. This was probably someone else's baby. After all Phillipe would never have slept with a girl. But slowly she began to realize that times had changed, and Phillipe had indeed slept with this girl. And this girl was now pregnant.

She would never admit this to Mia, but the day of the little girls birth had been the saddest one ever. Phillipe had flown to the states, to be there, and to discuss what was going to happen. Neither was willing to give up their future's to join the other.

Clarrise was awakened from her daydream when Mia burst into her sitting room, breathing heavily. She looked excited over something.

"Guess what?"

"Amelia, slow down, a Princess must never gasp." Mia took a second to regain her breath, jumping from foot to foot. "Tell me, Mia, all this anticipation is tiring me out."

"Lily and Micheal can come in a week, isn't that great?"

"Lily and Micheal? Amelia you needed to discuss this with me first, we have so much to do..."

"But I did ask, the very first day I got here, and you said fine."

"When, I don't remember this?"

"When we had our little talk."

"Amelia I was preoccupied. Besides, if that boy is here, you'll have no time for anything else."

"He has a name."

"I realize he had a name, and I also realize that you are much to young to have a beau."

"Grandma, You were married when you were my age."

"Times have changed, and besides I was married, not just philandering with some boy."

"He isn't some boy-"

"I hate to interrupt you but he is some boy. Amelia you must think of your future, in a very short time you will be Queen, and you will need to find a husband. A queen can not marry just any man. He needs to be Prince material."

"How can you lecture me about Micheal, when you have Joe?"

"I have what?"

"Joe! Don't pretend you don't. Everyone knows you and Joe have something going on."

"Mia, Joseph is nothing to me but a very good friend. And besides even if there was something going on with Joe, which there isn't, Joseph would have made a much more suitable consort than your American Boy."

"What do you mean?"

"Well for starters the spouse of the monarch must give up any citizenship they hold in various countries for a Genovian citizenship, they must be willing to give up there life for yours. They cannot participate in any dangerous sports until an heir is born. They cannot argue with you in public. They cannot sit before you are seated. They cannot do anything without your approval. Is Micheal willing to do all this for you?"

"Grandma, I'm only 18 it's not like I'm going to marry the first guy I kiss!"

"Mia you need to be careful, we don't want anymore ... well accidents on our hands."

"Accidents? Is that what I am? And accident! Just because my mother wasn't willing to give up her life for this, I'm an accident?"

"No Mia, that isn't at all what I meant."

"Whatever." And with that Mia stormed out of the room. Clarrise shook her head sadly. Mia had gotten it all wrong.

"Come out." She motioned to where she knew Joseph was concealed. "That girl is going to be my death!" Joseph said nothing. "Well say something, I know you want to..."

"We are good friends?"

"Yes of course. Don't you want to be friends?" Clarrise was perplexed, she had exceptected some lecture on how she needed to loosen up on Mia. She turned around on the couch to face Joe.

"No your majesty, and I don't think you want to be just good friends either." He moved towards her, cautiously. And suddenly she knew what was coming. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. He took his own sweet time, but she couldn't wait. With her free hand she reached up and brought his head down to hers. Their lips brushed lightly at first, and then he leaned in further, deepening the kiss.

It was an awkward position him leaning over the couch, with his band knee, her kneeling on it. But to them it didn't matter. Because for the first time in their lives, this was what they both really wanted.

Hopefully you didn't think that was too dramatic, or that it had too much dialogue, but tell me if you did! 


	8. Misconceptions

**Chapter 8: Misconceptions**

Joseph was the first to pull away. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying every second of it. It was that he could hear someone coming down the hall. And being caught like this could mean the end of both of their careers.

Carefully he removed Clarisse's hands from where they were around his neck. She understood. She always understood. That's what Joseph loved so much about his Queen. The two of them seemed to be connected in some strange subliminal way.

The person that had been coming down the hall, stopped at the door of Clarrise's suit and knocked.

"Come in," said Clarrise, trying to rapidly straighten her suit. Joe thought she looked perfect as always, but she obviously didn't think so as she kept running her hands over her lap, wiping out invisible wrinkles.

The person opened the door and came into the room. It was just Charlotte. She nodded to Joe and then proceeded to go over tomorrow's schedule with Clarrise. A meeting with France, Lunch with Portugal, and telephone conference with Mr. Bush. Joe didn't understand how one woman could do all of that, and still have time for her friends and family.

Clarrise got up and walked across the room, still fiddling with her clothing. The back of her jacket was flipped up the littlest bit, but there was nothing Joe could do. Not that Charlotte would notice. Joseph thought she was a dear, but not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Charlotte finished with the Queen, closing her day planner with a certain efficiency. As she headed towards the door, she leaned over to where Joe was standing.

"So I see you're getting it on with the queen!" she whispered, and then she was gone, giggling down the hallway.


	9. Grumps

**Chapter 9: Grumps**

Mia sat staring aimlessly at the wall of her bedroom. She didn't understand her grandmother. They were so different, opposite ends of the spectrum. How could her Grandma do this too her? She had said yes, but now she was changing her mind, people were always changing their minds.

Lily had changed her mind about wanting Mia to be a princess. Her mother had changed her mind about her father. Micheal had changed his mind about her. Everyone was always changing!

She curled up in the chair, flipping through the channels aimlessly. The cable still wasn't installed, and she had already missed the first episode of American Idol. Stupid Genovian TV! Why didn't they have anything good one here?

Mia closed her eyes it wasn't even three yet, but she was tired, worn out from the action of the last couple of weeks. Within minutes the young girl was asleep, looking peaceful and demure, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Joe was trying to act like a normal functional human being, but he was a bit shocked by Charlotte's comment. How could she have known? And the way she put it, well with kids these days you never knew. But getting it on? He'd thought about his queen a lot, but he didn't want to think about it like that.

Clarisse was talking about something, but honestly he was distracted. By the way the light hit her hair, the way her suit jacket pulled slightly across the bust, the way she kept wiping the invisible wrinkles out of her suit. Everything she did caught his attention. He felt as if he'd been caught off his guard. Charlotte must have eyes in the back of her head, and a nose for, well anything. How else could she have known?

Clarisse was sorting papers over by her desk, chatting as if nothing was happening, and he was still over by the couch. Over where he had kissed his Queen, and where her personal assistant had read him like a book.

Joe had always considered himself a rather mysterious person. Obviously he had been wrong. But why was he obsessing over this? Charlotte would never tell anyone. He decided it was just because it was so unnerving.

Clarisse turned around to say something to him, but he was off in another world. She couldn't help but laugh at him, he looked so serious, so grave. With his black sport coat, and black sunglasses, he could have been going to a funeral. Suddenly it struck her, did this have something to do with the kiss? Their kiss?

She turned away blushing at the mere thought of her reckless actions. She shouldn't have done it. She really shouldn't have done it. But she had. What if it happened again? What would she tell him? She had to say no, but she knew she couldn't say no. She didn't want to say no. Clarisse shook her head, she would worry about that when the time came. For now she would just, what was it that Mia said, oh yes 'Go with the Flow.'

Dinner that night was an awkward occasion to say the least, Mia wouldn't speak to her Grandmother, Joseph stood firmly against the wall refusing to be seated, and every time Charlotte walked past she burst into a fit of giggles. Clarisse gazed around, it was as if someone had turned the palace into a mad house.

In a way she was mad at Joe. He was the one that had initiated the whole thing. And if he regretted it now, the least he could have done was act like a gentleman, about the whole thing. But here he was, leaning on the wall, arms crossed, glaring at the world, like a toddler that hadn't gotten his way. And for crying out loud, she might be the Queen, but it was one kiss, one measly kiss. It wasn't as if they had slept together or anything.

Clarisse laughed to herself at that thought. She had never really considered it. Sleeping with Joseph. She had thought about kissing him and holding him. She wanted him to kiss her, to love her. But she had never really thought about sex. Clarisse shook her head. Her granddaughter was sitting across the table from her, and she was thinking about sleeping with her head of security, who stood behind her. The whole thing made her blush.

Dinner was going rather badly, Joe thought to himself. Mia was grouchy as anything, and Clarisse wouldn't really look him in the eye. Not that he made it particularly easy for her, as he was standing behind her. But on the way down from her suite, she hadn't said anything, she hadn't really spoken to him since the little incident in the suite. She had jabbered on about work and queen related things, but she had been speaking to her head or security. Not to Joe. He uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides. He knew in the back of his mind what the hardest part of this was. The fact that she had all the control. She could summon him, dismiss him, fire him, hire him, and he didn't have any say in the matter. Joe had never considered himself a really sexist man, but when it came to woman, he wanted to be the leader and protector. Not some puppet on a string for her to play with.


	10. Tourist

Because I have not posted in so long I decided to post this only 24 hours after the last one! Someone commented saying they weren't really sure where I was going with this. Well that makes two of us! My brilliant plan fell through and now I am just writing where my heart leads. Or w/e. Happy Reading... 

**Chapter 10: Tourist**

Clarrise retired to her suite early. She was tired out, after all the cold shoulders and hard looks. She didn't know what was going on with Joseph or her Granddaughter, and for that matter what about Charlotte. She had burst into laughter when Clarisse had said goodnight to her in the hallway. The palace might as well be turned into a phsychiatric ward, the way things were going.

Strangely enough Clarrise felt rather at peace with the whole situation. She knew she would have to apoloogize to Mia, about the whole 'accident' discussion. And of course Lily and Micheal would have to come. A Queen never 'uninvites' her guests. Joseph was another matter all together. But Clarrise decided not to contemplate it. He was just being moody, or something. Or something, somehow seemed a more likely possibility. She had known Joseph for a very long time, but she had never seen him alough his personal feeling or mood, get in the way of his job.

The phone rang, and Clarisse came out of the bathroom, where she had been brushing her teeth to get it. She picked it up on the third ring, wondering what kind of call would get forwarded to her room, ecspecially at this hour.

"Hello?" The line was staticky, as if the phone call was from a long way away.

"Hello, Mother." It was Pierre, her eldest son.

"Pierre? What do I owe for the pleasure of this call?"

"Nothing Mom, I'm in the area, can I drop by?"

"Of course! You're in the area? But the line is so staticky, as if you were calling from "

"Yes, I know. I'm on a mobile phone actually. Borrowed it from a tourist. He wants to say 'Hi', to the Queen. Can I put him on?" Clarisse sighed she knew she couldn't say no. But she genuinely hated tourists. Especially the kind with mobile phones. When ever she was out in public, they were constantly shoving their phones in her face, wanting her to say hello to some long-lost aunt or distant cousin.

"Of course." She could hear someone talking in the back ground, gabbering away.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes."

"I just wanted to tell you that I think you are doing a fine job with this here country, and that I am a huge fan. Did you know I am actually originally from Genovia. My mothers father immigrated to the United States in - ummm about, well I'd say 1932. I must say that was mighty smart of him, seeing how Genovia suffered so much in the wars. And I think you're great, and that little niece of yours, or is she your daughter. Well I think she's sweet. But don't you think you'd better have someone better. Because well she is just so young. Did I mention that my family comes from Genovia." It was as if the tourist hadn't breathed once during the whole conversation. If you could call it that, Classise had barely spoken. Finally she interupted.

"Thank you, now I really must go."

"But-" Clarrise hung up. Pierre would be here soon, and she didn't want the palace to be in a total disarray. Not that it was ever that way. Still Clarisse wanted it to be perfect.

I agree nothing really happened, but I just wanted to place Clarrise in another Queenly situation. And show Pierre in. 


End file.
